


Father's Day

by CuriousThimble



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Birth, Dad Alistair, Dadistair, F/M, Father's Day, Giving Birth, Pregnancy, labor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 18:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19215160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriousThimble/pseuds/CuriousThimble
Summary: Alistair has everything he never knew he wanted: the Archdemon has been defeated, he's married the love of his life, and even though he's king, he's happy. But when Elissa goes into labor, he's suddenly afraid of losing everything.





	Father's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed. Originally, this was with my OC Hera and a very different Alistair, but The Wrong Warden is taking some unexpected turns, and this could no longer be used as part of their epilogue. So I recycled what I could and decided to throw it out here for Father's Day. I hope you enjoy it!

It happened suddenly, just as she had been warned. One moment Elissa was walking in the garden with Leliana, her cousin Cassia, and some of her ladies, the next her red gown was drenched in her waters and she was being cheerfully rushed to her chambers.

 

Leliana had the pleasure of seeking out the king. Ignoring the guards, she burst into the audience chamber, scattering the gentry like a flock of birds. “Your Majesty!” she cries triumphantly.

 

Alistair knows exactly what’s happening, and runs for the door, shouting for Eamon to take over.“I’m sorry everyone, my babies are coming!” he shouts gleefully.

 

The last three months have been perfect- he’d married and crowned the most wonderful woman in existence, watched her work tirelessly for their people while she carried their twins, and learned so much from her. And now, after everything the Hero of Ferelden has given him, she was going to give yet another precious gift.

 

 _Two_ precious gifts.

 

By the time he makes it to the queen’s rooms things are well underway. Women are everywhere, fluttering about like brightly colored birds, and they all turn as one when he bursts in. All the attention suddenly makes him feel larger and clumsier than usual.

 

One of the ladies points. “She’s in-”

 

_“Alistair!”_

 

He nods, grinning like a fool, and goes into the bedchamber. “Yes, my love?” he asks playfully.

 

“Your Majesty now is...not the time,” Cassia warns.

 

True enough, his wife- normally rosy-cheeked and composed- is red-faced and grimacing in pain, sweat beading on her forehead. Elissa is walking, gripping the arm of a midwife and pacing the room; Alistair leaps into action, replacing the woman supporting her and using his handkerchief to dry her brow.

 

“Hey pretty lady,” he soothes, pushing her fair hair back. “You’re doing great.”

 

“You’re here,” she sighs as if noticing him for the first time.

 

He wraps his arm around her waist, keeping her on her feet as the pain makes her cry out. “Hey, I wouldn’t miss this,” he tells her once it passes. “Is there anything I can do?”

 

“Keep her walking, Majesty.”

 

They walk for what seems like hours, up and down the room, before the midwives dismiss everyone lingering and lifts her hem. “There we are,” she says cheerfully. “Let’s get you into the chair. Someone come pin her hair back, we don’t want all those curls smothering her.”

 

Alistair stays beside Elissa the whole time, clutching her hand and screaming right along with her. Finally, when she has nothing left, one of the midwives hums approvingly, and a tiny, screeching thing slithers into her hands.

 

“Well that’s a fine girl,” the old woman says, wiping her face and wrapping a warm towel around the babe and handing her to an assistant. “Let the girl bathe her, Majesty, and you can hold her.”

 

“A...a girl,” he whispers, eyes wide with surprise as he hovers over the assistant’s shoulder. “Look Lis, a girl. Our...our _daughter_.” He laughs, taking the baby as she’s handed to him. “Maker’s breath! We have a daughter! Hello, pretty girl,” he coos.

 

“Bring her close,” Elissa whispers, beckoning him closer with a weak wave of her hand.

 

“Rest while you can, you’re not done yet, Your Grace,” the midwife chuckles. “Annie, give her a cup of wine, she’ll need the strength for the next one.”

 

Gasping for breath, Elissa looks over his arm as he shows her their girl. “Oh Maker,” she says hoarsely, tears streaming down her face. “She’s beautiful.”

 

Alistair looks down at her, tears in his eyes. “Thank you, my darling,” he says, his voice breaking. He presses a kiss to her damp hair and laughs joyously.

 

“All right, Majesties,” the midwife says, Elissa’s hem over her head. “Hand the babe off to Annie here and put your attention to this one. Deep breaths, my lady.”

 

He feels bereft as soon as the baby is gone, whisked off to be examined and dressed. Elissa’s body tenses as more pain comes over her, clenching her jaw against screaming. Tears run down his cheeks and he babbles about how much he loves her, how strong she is, and that it’s nearly over.

 

There’s a problem with the second one, he doesn’t understand what they mean when they say the baby is twisted and can’t come out, but the idea of it being trapped scares him out of his mind. Watching Elissa struggle and try not to give up is torture, and there’s nothing he can do about it. It’s almost like watching her kill the archdemon again, and he feels just as helpless.

 

“All right girl,” the midwife says, taking a deep breath. “Don’t push, I’m going to try and shift the babe.”

 

Alistair watches as she puts one hand on Elissa’s belly, pushing against the bulk, the other doing hidden work he can’t see. Elissa screams, gripping Alistair’s hand till her nails cut into him. Seconds take hours as he watches the bump shift slightly, and she sighs, going limp.

 

“Now, girl!” the woman orders. “Push now!”

 

She grimaces, her back arching with the effort of pushing, and Alistair is certain fighting the darkspawn horde was easier.

 

And like that battle, over just as suddenly.

 

More screaming, another set of perfect lungs. Alistair holds their son up for Elissa to see as the midwife clips his cord and finishes her work. A few moments later, she hands her assistant a bloody cloth and instructs her to burn it.

 

“What was that?” Alistair asks, watching the assistant place the bundle gently into the fire.

 

“The afterbirth, Majesty,” she explains. “You burn it for luck all through the babes' lives.”

 

He nods and turns back to his wife. “We’ve already been so lucky,” he murmurs.

 

“Aye, you have,” the midwife agrees. “All right, my lady, let’s get you cleaned and into bed and you can hold your little ones. You’ll bleed a bit, but we’ve laid out old sheets and padding for that.”

 

They haul Elissa to her feet and gingerly help her wash while Alistair stands looking over Annie’s shoulder as she washes the boy. Once she’s in a clean gown and lying propped up by pillows, he comes to her side.

 

“Look at how perfect they are,” he says softly, holding one in each arm. Carefully he hands her their son.

 

“He has dark hair, like my brother. Hello Duncan,” she says before she starts sobbing.

 

 _Of course, she would want him named Duncan,_ he thinks, fumbling for another handkerchief. _He saved her life when Howe betrayed the Couslands._ Alistair sits beside her, careful not to hurt her, and wraps his arm around her. “Look, Eleanor,” he says, jiggling the baby awkwardly until her face is pointed toward her mother. “Look how pretty mama is.”

 

“Alistair don’t, I’m puffy and must look awful,” Elissa cries, kissing Duncan’s dark hair.

 

“You are gorgeous,” he murmurs, leaning to kiss her cheek.

 

“Oh, how perfect they are.” She looks up at him, then down at Eleanor. “She’s going to be blonde,” she whispers, brushing the gold down on her head. “Like us.”

 

Alistair kisses the top of her head, trying not to cry. “Thank you, my love,” he whispers. “You’ve done so much. Thank you.”

 

“Hello?” Leliana pokes her head in the door, smiling. “Are you up for company? There’s a herd of people who want to see the babies.”

 

Elissa nods, glad someone had combed and braided her hair. “Come see.”

 

Leliana and Cassia rush in, all squeals and sighs for the twins. Wynne stands further away, a wistful expression on her face, and Alistair wonders if she’s thinking of her own son. Eamon and Isolde come as well, bearing gifts.

 

They all visit and hold the babies for a little while before Cassia runs everyone out. “Her Majesty needs rest, and the babies should feed,” she says, chasing them out like chickens. “The cradle is ready for them, and there is a nightshirt warming by the fire for you, King Alistair,” she tells her friends, and closes the door behind her.

 

“Cassia?” Elissa calls, catching her friend. “Did anyone send word?”

 

She nods. “I sent the raven myself, Majesty. I imagine he will be here as fast as wings can carry him.”

 

“He?” Alistair chortles as her cousin leaves.

 

“Zevran,” she explains, putting Duncan to the breast. “He promised he’d be here.”

 

“Well, last we heard he was in Antiva. It might take a few days.” He rocks Eleanor gently, his heart in his eyes, and looks over at his wife. “Are you truly all right, Lis?” he asks.

 

“Bone-weary,” she sighs.

 

“Are you in pain?”

 

She tilts her head, watching the babe suckle. “Some. Mostly I am...uncomfortable.”

 

“Does that...hurt?” he asks, nodding to Duncan.

 

“No, it is a relief,” she says. “They’ve been sore.” Duncan releases her with a soft ‘pop' as he yawns and falls asleep. “Trade me, Hero. I will put her on the other side.”

 

They make the switch, both awkward and unsure of themselves, having never been around babies for any length of time. They laugh at their timidity, then wonder at how small and perfect their twins are.

 

“Marta- the midwife- said they would be small,” she tells him. “But they will grow fast.” She hears a great sniff and looks up to see him trying not to cry. “Oh Hero,” she says lovingly.

 

He shakes his head and rises to put Duncan in the cradle beside the bed, then takes Eleanor and bundles her in beside him, holding back tears the whole time. “You don't understand,” he says, kneeling beside the bed and taking her hand. “There was a moment...you were so tired, and in so much pain. There wasn't anything I could do…”

 

Elissa brushes her hand over his cheek and smiles. “It is the way of things, my love. We are all fine and in good health. Undress, and hold me. We both need rest.”

 

***

 

Elissa wakes instantly, fully alert at the sound of a baby’s cry. “Eleanor?” she gasps.

 

Cassia puts her hand on Elissa’s arm and smiles. “She’s fine, my lady,” she assures her. “Your husband just pinched her.”

 

Alistair turns away from the window in horror, the fussing baby in his arms. “I did not! You take that back!”

 

Cassia laughs and helps her sit up. “Forgive me, Majesty,” she laughs. “I was only teasing.”

 

“How long have I slept?” Elissa asks, taking the baby from him. The child roots around her nightdress, making it clear what ails her, so she opens it to feed her.

 

“Half the day,” Alistair tells her, standing over the cradle and making faces at Duncan. “So have they.”

 

“Any word from Zevran? Or Sten?”

 

“A note from Zevran, saying he was on his way. Sten sent a rather nice painting of a cookie, it arrived yesterday- I’ve never met anyone with such a good sense of timing.”

 

“Oghren is still in Amaranthine,” Cassia adds. “He said he cannot come away just now, but he’ll send Felsi if you need her.”

 

“No, let her stay there,” Elissa murmurs, enchanted with the baby in her arms. “She’s well into her own pregnancy, isn’t she?”

 

“Yes, Majesty.”

 

“We have Wynne and Leliana here,” Alistair reminds her. “Fergus arrived this morning.”

 

“He did! Oh, can I see him?” Elissa squeals.

 

***

Alistair has no idea what to do. Elissa is sleeping peacefully, and Duncan slept like a stone in the cradle. But Eleanor, his pretty blonde daughter, just stared up at him with her mother’s eyes, looking as if she’s about to scream in fury, so he hastily picks her up.

 

“You are going to break hearts one day,” he says nervously, jiggling her a little. “With a mother like that how could you not?”

 

The infant makes a snuffling sound, her tiny fist rubbing her eye. He takes a moment to admire her properly, counting each toe and finger, brushing a hand gently over her downy golden hair.

 

“You know, I never really thought I’d ever be a father,” he tells her in a soothing voice, walking over to the window. Carefully tucking the blanket around her, he holds her gently and looks out over the city. “Even before I was a Grey Warden. I was in the chantry before that, and they told us that celibacy was the only way to a holy life. Touching each other that way was wicked, they said. Then Duncan- the man, not your brother- came to the abbey and took me away to make me a Grey Warden.”

 

He goes quiet for a moment, almost forgetting who and where he is at the moment. Back then, no one had any idea he would end up being king of Ferelden. He’d just wanted to be a Grey Warden, and do something _good_ for once.

 

Eleanor screws up her face and makes an irritated squawk, bringing him back into the present. Jiggling her again, he strokes her cheek softly. “Six months,” he tells her, tickling her foot. “That was all the peace and quiet I had as a Warden. Then your mother came along. There you go, baby girl,” he chuckles when she kicks her feet and gives him a gummy smile. They told him babies can’t smile just yet, but if anyone can do whatever she wants, it’s Elissa’s daughter. “Your mother turned my world upside down. Several times,” he chuckles, kissing the top of her head. “The latest time being yesterday afternoon. That’s when you got here.”

 

He cuddles his daughter close, inhaling the smell of baby and sweet oil they’d put on her. “I had no idea I could love so much,” he sighs, closing his eyes and resting his cheek against her hair.

 

Emotion overwhelms him, making his throat and chest tight as he tries not to cry. He loses the battle, and in a moment he’s sitting on the floor, sobbing, while Eleanor screams along with him.

 

“Hero, what are you doing?”

 

Alistair looks up to see Elissa propping herself up on her elbow, her golden hair a tangled mess. She’s so beautiful he can only bow his head and sob some more, rocking back and forth with the baby.

 

“I- I was just holding her,” he cries. “And I love her so much!”

 

Elissa smiles and climbs out of bed slowly, making him very aware that she gave birth to the twins only the day before. “Give her to me, love,” she says softly, holding her arms out.

 

Alistair hands the baby over gently, trying to get a hold on himself. Taking deep breaths, he watches Elissa settle into a chair by the fire and open her gown to feed the baby.

 

“Do you have any idea how special this is?” he asks, his voice rough. “We shouldn't have one baby, but we have _two_. They’re healthy. You’re healthy. The taint didn't pass to them.”

 

Elissa nods, soothing her daughter. “I know. I never thought I’d thank the Maker for anything after what happened in Highever. But it seems Andraste blesses those who turn away from the Maker,” she says softly, looking up at him.


End file.
